


Unwind Me

by delgay



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, alternately titled: Michael Guerin’s Guide to Courting for Dummies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 03:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delgay/pseuds/delgay
Summary: “Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged.“Canyou?” Alex returned.“No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.”Alex is avoiding everyone, but he can’t seem to escape Michael.





	Unwind Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sooo self-indulgent, it’s scary. The only thing missing is Michael Guerin in ponytail. Enjoy!
> 
> Title is from “R U Lonely 2?” by Cosima.

Alex spent what could be considered an alarming amount of time alone, these days.

He withdrew from his friends, favoring holing up in the cabin or frequenting tourist bars to get drunk or laid or both, before stumbling on home to repeat the ritual the following night. When he wasn’t getting lost at the bottom of a bottle, he was in the bunker, searching desperately for the scraps of Project Shepherd that he knew still existed, yet couldn’t manage to pin down. Kyle joined him, sometimes, but mostly Alex was there alone, staring at the giant screen until his eyes crossed and words and symbols jumbled together into a long unintelligible string.

That’s exactly what Alex was doing today; he had managed to discover that there was a base in Nevada that possessed massive amounts of alien tech, but had so far not managed to determine whether any of it was relevant to Michael and his siblings or their planet. It felt like yet another dead end, and Alex left the bunker pissed off and itching for a drink and the sensation of another body under his.

He drove straight to Saturn’s Ring, which was quickly becoming his favorite haunt. It was loud and the decor was aggravating at best, but it was the surest way to ensure that he wouldn’t run into anyone he didn’t want to. Alex planted himself at the bar, planning to stay awhile and wait until a guy caught his eye, eager to do it fast and dirty at the tourist’s hotel, or the bathroom, or even the back of his SUV. He wasn’t feeling particularly picky, tonight, though he guessed he hadn’t been partially picky in general, these days.

Alex eyed a guy in the corner, with dark hair and eyes to match and skin that gleamed like the sun under the flash of multicolored lights; the man met Alex’s gaze and smiled. Alex smiled back, moving to to get up and approach the man when his line of sight was suddenly cut off by Michael Guerin plopping himself gracelessly onto the stool beside him. 

Alex blinked. He hadn’t seen Michael in over a month, and that had been entirely purposeful. “What are you doing here?” he questioned.

Michael was wearing his black cowboy hat and denim shirt paired with jeans tucked into boots. It was his typical attire, putting him completely out of place amongst the tourist crowd that frequented Saturn’s Ring, yet Alex couldn’t deny that he was a sight for sore eyes. A lock of hair had fallen over Michael’s brow, his eyes shifting over to Alex for a brief moment before he lifted his hand to flag down the bartender. “Heard you’d been spending some time over here,” Michael finally told him. “I just wanted to confirm the rumor that you really have become a tourist.”

Alex rolled his eyes and sipped his drink, steadfastly not wincing from the bite of straight whiskey rolling down his throat. He didn’t bother responding, just watched cautiously as Michael ordered a drink for himself and another for Alex.

As Michael’s amber gaze landed back on Alex, Michael admitted, “You're not an easy man to find.”

Alex lifted his chin and raised an eyebrow, refusing to flinch under Michael’s calculating eyes. “And did you bother to take a moment to consider that, maybe, I don’t want to be found?” The liquor was making him want to lash out even more than usual, and just because Michael was pretty didn’t mean that Alex didn’t occasionally have the urge to fight with him.

Michael sniffed, a telltale sign that he was having trouble holding back what he really wanted to say, and why he came here in the first place. “Not really,” he drawled as the bartender set two glasses of whiskey in front of them. Michael fished a few bills out of his pocket and pushed them across the bar; the action couldn't help but strike Alex as odd, given that Michael wasn’t in the habit of paying for anything if he couldn’t help it. “So,” Michael continued, “I get it; you don’t want to see me. But you’re avoiding all of your friends, too?”

It had been weeks since Alex had spoken to Liz or Maria. He’d heard from Kyle that Rosa was back, that Max had died and had been revived, that Maria and Michael had already called it quits. Alex continued to hole up in his isolated cabin and ignore every text he received on the matter from someone who wasn’t Kyle. He had his own shit going on, given his dad was still the world’s biggest asshole, and the guy he wanted to risk everything for had turned him down in favor of his best friend. Alex figured these facts gave him an excuse to retreat into a less than glamorous recluse lifestyle, and they would just have to give Alex some time to figure his shit out. 

Alex shrugged. “I hang out with Kyle,” he replied.

Michael let out a hollow chuckle and shook his head disapprovingly. “I gotta say, your preferred choice in company is awfully questionable these days.”

Giving Michael a long, meaningful look, Alex asked, “_These_ days?”

The passivity in Michael’s gaze dropped for a brief moment before he grabbed ahold of his glass and washed down uncertainty with whiskey. “Guess you could never resist an asshole, huh?” he asked, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Alex sputtered and laughed, the tension within him uncoiling for a moment. “That joke was beneath even you, Guerin,” he replied, but he was still smiling.

As he heaved a loud sigh, Michael muttered something about _only thing that is, these days_ before he turned his attention back to Alex. “So, do I need to be worried, or are you alright in that cabin all by yourself?”

“I’m fine, Guerin, and you can pass that on to whoever sent you,” Alex replied, souring at Michael’s choice to take the conversation back into serious territory. He wanted to laugh it off, pretend the last several months didn’t happen, and maybe get a bit more drunk as to have an excuse to lean heavily against the man beside him. 

Michael shook his head, the action causing his hair to fall more heavily into his eyes. “No one has to send me to check on you, Alex,” Michael replied, his tone laced with forced levity, “and one of these days, that fact is finally gonna permeate your thick skull.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. He knew he was spoiling for a fight, that the alcohol in his system was going to have his stupid tongue saying things he didn’t particularly want to but meant. He wanted to be impassive and cold and not reveal how the last month had turned him into a raw, sensitive thing, but it wasn’t exactly in his nature to mince words.

“I wasn’t the one who walked away,” Alex spat.

In return, Alex was met with a twin fury he wasn’t quite expecting. “No,” Michael ground out, fists clenched on the bar, “But I learned from the best.”

As his heart thumped hard in his chest, Alex felt his body go cold. “Is that why you came here? To rub it in my face?” he demanded. “Fair play, but I don’t need you to remind me how badly I fucked up. I’ve already got that covered, thanks.”

“_No_, that’s not why I came,” Michael said, looking down and rubbing a hand over his mouth. He turned his head to look at Alex fully once more. “I came here to buy you a drink and see for myself that you’re still alive.”

Alex raised his glass. “Well, you’ve done it. Cheers,” he grumbled, voice lacking heat as he tipped the remainder of his glass into his mouth, cutting off any self-loathing that threatened to creep up.

“Alex,” Michael said.

“What?” Alex snapped.

Michael sighed again. “Can’t a man just buy another man a drink, without all of this?” He waved his hand around nebulously. “Can we just…” he trailed off, his hands grasping at nothing where they were resting in the bar.

Alex stared at Michael like he’d grown a second head and had the urge to shake him. He wasn’t making any damn sense, coming in here acting like the thread between them wasn’t stretched thin and near snapping. Like things between them could ever be simple, after everything that had happened between them. It would take far more alcohol and sweet-talking to get Alex to relax, especially now that Michael had picked at his wound. 

Michael never did finish his thought, just flagged the bartender back for another round of drinks.

Alex blinked in disbelief. “Do you really think getting me drunk is going to fix things?” he questioned.

“Nah,” Michael replied. “‘Course not. But I think it might make it easier for us to just sit here without clawing each other’s eyes out.”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows and ran his index finger over the bar, feeling the texture of the wood grain against his fingernail again and again.

“Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged.

“Can _you?_” Alex returned. A huge part of him was already tired of this dance, the one where they fought as a prelude to fucking or flirting. A larger part still had sorely missed it.

“No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.”

They sat there for at least half an hour, drinking quietly, people-watching, nodding to couples that were either all over each other or not speaking at all, all while not saying a word and communicating only through eyebrow lifts and disgusted looks, punctuated with the occasional hand movement. The more time passed, the more Alex’s shoulders drooped, and he somehow found himself going pliant. The whiskey was, admittedly, probably largely to blame. Finally, Alex was willing to laugh at the face Michael made in reaction to a straight couple sloppily grinding on the dance floor.

“That could be us, but you’re playing,” Michael said as his eyes twinkled, breaking the silence and getting Alex to cackle. He knew full well that the messy display of affection was the furthest thing from what Michael liked to engage in. No, he was more about looks and innuendo. Non verbal cues and words that drew one into his orbit. When Michael did touch, it was meaningful, expressive. He often poured everything he had into those hands, when words failed him.

“Maybe next time,” Alex replied easily. His guard hadn’t fully fallen away, but he found could breathe a lot easier in Michael’s presence.

They parted ways at the end of the night, tipsy but not drunk, with nods exchanged. It was an acknowledgement of a shift; they may not be friends, but they were no longer likely to haul off on sight, either.

Alex didn’t really know how he was supposed to feel about the whole thing, but spent most of the ride back to the cabin with a content smile on his face.

“He just showed up and drank with you in silence?” Kyle laughed.

“Basically,” Alex replied, twirling around in his rolling chair. They were seated in Kyle’s office two days after Michael had approached Alex at Saturn’s Ring, lounging after they had eaten lunch together. “There was a bit of talking but, seriously, we didn’t say anything for the longest time.”

It was strange, Alex thought, the way that Michael had sought him out, but the night had ended up being okay. Sure, Alex hadn’t gotten laid, but he felt more relaxed, almost like something inside of him had loosened just slightly. The sting of Michael’s rejection wasn’t gone, nor had he fully forgiven Maria, but the storm inside of him was quelled for the moment. 

“That must be the Michael Guerin Apology Method, I guess,” Kyle scoffed, “Needs a bit of work, if you ask me.”

Alex shrugged. “Did you tell him where I’ve been hanging out?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t know how else he would know, because I haven’t—”

Speak of the devil and all that, because suddenly Michael walked into the room, effectively cutting off Alex’s sentence with a styrofoam cup clutched in his grasp. “Hey,” he greeted, eyes fixed on Alex.

Alex gaped for the briefest moment, turning wide eyes to Kyle before he frowned up at Michael. “Hey? What are you doing here?”

Beside Alex, Kyle sputtered behind his hand, trying not to laugh openly.

“Oh,” Michael said, appearing to be taken aback by the question. “I was just doing some work with Liz, and I saw you guys in here. Am I interrupting?” His eyes moved quickly from Alex to Kyle and back as if to study them.

“Not at all,” Kyle quickly interjected, “I actually have to get back to work. See you, Alex.” He got out of his chair and moved quickly towards the door, tossing Alex a thumbs up once he was behind Michael. 

Asshole.

“You sure know how to clear a room, don’t you, Guerin?” Alex questioned, looking up at him. He was wearing a plaid shirt with his faded jeans and boots and that stupid belt buckle that couldn’t help but draw attention. In fairness, said belt buckle _was_ eye level, so Alex figured he didn’t need to be too hard on himself.

Michael didn’t even have the decently to look sheepish, just shrugged like it couldn’t be helped. “What can I say? It’s a talent.” He moved further into the room, approaching Alex with the barest hint of hesitation, a knowledge Alex only had from knowing Michael for so long. Michael could often be brash and demanding, but he had moments where was unsure, cautious of taking up too much space. “How’ve you been?” he asked.

“No complaints,” Alex replied. “You?” This small talk was so atypical for them that he couldn’t help smirking in amusement. 

“You know, the usual,” Michael drawled. “I only got into one bar fight this week, so I’ve kind of been behaving myself.” His eyes shone, boring into Alex in a way that Alex couldn’t deny made him want to shift in his seat. 

He didn’t, though; Alex looked back at Michael levelly, like he always did. He snorted. “I’m impressed by your restraint,” he told Michael. “You’re so brave.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but a smile pulled at his lips. “I may not have a Purple Heart, but I do what I can,” he said. “Anyways. Here.” He held out the cup he’d been holding to Alex, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Alex frowned but took it. “Why?” he asked.

Michael shrugged and shoved his now empty hands in his pockets. “Got it for myself, but I’m not really feeling it anymore. I don’t wanna waste it and make Liz feel bad.”

Alex could tell from the chocolate drizzle and sprinkles on top of the whipped cream that the drink was a Triple Chocolate Milky Way shake from the Crashdown. His favorite. “Oh, okay. Thanks, I guess,” Alex offered. He peered at Michael, attempting to determine his angle.

Michael just nodded under Alex’s scrutiny, pressing his lips into a line to contain a smile. “See you around?” he asked, voice lilting with hope.

Alex gave Michael the smallest of smiles, but only because he was feeling particularly magnanimous and hadn’t had a milkshake in ages. “See you, Guerin,” he confirmed.

Michael’s answering pleased smirk was worth it.

A week later, when Alex swung open his front door, the last thing he expected to see Michael was standing in front of him with some kind of metal device in hand. “So I know this is weird,” Michael began, “But let me explain.”

Alex blinked what Michael gripped in his hand. “Is that a _leg?_” he demanded.

“Yes. I made you a new leg, because the one you have right now is— no offense— garbage,” Michael replied.

Alex huffed, taking in the sleek metal leg Michael held. “My prosthesis is fine. Don’t be dramatic.” His head was screaming at him to tell Michael to get the fuck out of here and leave the leg on the doorstep. His heart had him opening the door wider.

“Okay, it’s fine, but _this_,” Michael explained, presenting the new artificial leg to Alex with an almost manic smile, “is the fucking Tesla of prostheses.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, so you think you’re Elon Musk, now?”

Michael huffed. “Look, I hate to pull this card, but I’m a literal genius. Can you just let me have this?”

“Modest, too,” Alex pointed out as he moved aside fully, allowing Michael to enter the cabin. 

Michael smiled as he stepped past Alex. “I promise, if you don’t like it, I’ll fuck right off.”

Alex’s eyebrows raised once more as he bit down on a smile. “Promise?” he pressed.

“Scout’s honor,” Michael said, holding up a palm.

Alex rolled his eyes at Michael’s absurdity as he moved to flop onto his couch and set about taking off his prosthesis, Michael watching all the while. It didn’t unnerve him the way it did when other people looked it; his gaze lacked the pity and horror that so often came when Alex revealed he had an artificial limb, and he seemed to see it as just another extension of Alex. It was the simplest of things, the bare minimum, yet Alex found himself grateful for it.

Michael kneeled before Alex once Alex had removed the old leg to help put on the new one, guiding it on and making Alex’s breath catch as his calloused fingers skimmed the bare skin of Alex’s thigh. As Michael’s eyes lifted to Alex’s for a brief moment, Alex felt the back of his neck go hot and, on instinct, he swayed forward. Alex caught himself a split second later, brushing off the action by looking down at Michael’s hands, still resting lightly on his thigh. Michael’s left hand was healed, Alex realized suddenly, free of scar tissue and knuckles all aligned. The sight made Alex swallow hard, wondering how long it had been since Michael had had it healed. How long it had been since Michael had decided to put their past to bed.

“Max did it,” Michael offered in a soft voice, catching where Alex’s gaze has landed. “I didn’t ask for it.”

Alex looked back into Michael’s eyes, nodding. He knew it was selfish, but the admission soothed him. “I would understand if you did, though. It’s not really the best memory.”

Michael wet his lips quickly and shook his head minutely as he looked down. “We must remember it differently,” he breathed, voice low and aching.

“Guerin,” Alex said, reaching out to touch one of his hands. “I meant _after_, not— you must know that I—” He stumbled over the words, searching for something to say that was true, yet not too true. “I’ve never regretted that day, no matter how it turned out.”

Michael looked up to search Alex’s face and nodded, clearing his throat after a long moment as he stood and backed up to give Alex room to get up along with him. “Well? What do you think?” Michael pressed.

Alex stood and put his weight on the prosthesis, feeling how it supported and curved around the skin below his knee. The height of it was perfect, and it was lightweight but sturdy, easy to walk and move in as he traipsed around his living room.

And Alex couldn’t lie; it did kind of make his old one seem like garbage. “Remind me again why you didn’t go to college?” he questioned, walking once more behind his couch.

“Because I clearly didn’t need it,” Michael replied, smirking, and Alex couldn’t deny that pride suited him. “You like it?”

Alex looked down at it, at the brushed metal and futuristic design. “I guess it’ll do,” he replied, giving Michael a pleased smile to let him know he was joking. They both knew it was great. “How long did it take you to make this?”

Michael shrugged. “A few months, I guess. Been working on it for a bit. I figured you shouldn’t be in pain if you don’t have to be.”

That meant that before Caulfield, before Maria, Michael had taken the time to start this and still follow though. The knowledge warmed Alex from the inside out. “Thank you,” Alex finally said. “This is a ridiculously thoughtful gift that I will never be able to repay.”

Michael held his hands up. “No thanks necessary. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

The admission gave Alex pause, finding himself lost with what to say next. He just swallowed hard and nodded. “You still didn’t have to, so. I appreciate it.”

Michael smiled, then, a real smile that lit Alex up all the way down to the tips of his toes. “It was my pleasure,” he replied, and when Michael went home a few minutes later, Alex was left with a distinct ache.

It took time, but Alex eventually sucked it up and went to The Wild Pony. He knew full well that he couldn't avoid or ignore Maria forever. They had been best friends since they were kids, and that meant so much more than them having feelings for the same man.

Maria blinked wildly when she saw him walk him, like she couldn’t believe it, before she ran around the bar to pull him into a hug. It caught him off balance, but Alex hugged her back tightly for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” Maria told him when she pulled away. Her eyes were glassy, forehead creased together in worry. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I am too. It’s okay,” Alex replied. “I’m sorry I kept my distance for so long. I miss you like crazy.”

“Me too,” she admitted, allowing a tear to fall. “I love you, Alex, and I understand why you stayed away for so long. What you and he have…” she trailed off. “It’s something else. Something...”

_Cosmic_, Michael’s voice supplied, echoing hollowly in Alex’s mind.

Alex shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past,” he replied, brushing the matter aside. “Tell me everything I’ve missed.”

When Alex left the Pony a couple of hours later, the sky was already dark, stars shining brightly among the full moon that lingered overhead. Alex pulled his jacket tightly around himself against the chill that threatened to creep over him as he headed towards his SUV, eager to get home after such a long, emotional talk. Despite feeling drained, Alex felt a lot lighter than he had than when he went in. He had known that his and Maria’s friendship was stronger than Michael Guerin, but it comforted Alex to have that reassurance.

“Alex!” 

Alex spun to see Michael striding towards him from the direction of the bar. Fuck, it seemed like Alex couldn’t escape him, these days. “Were you waiting out here for me?” Alex questioned.

“Kind of,” Michael admitted. “I went in and saw you talking to Maria; decided it might be unwise to interrupt.”

Alex scoffed. “I’m surprised she even lets you through the threshold.” He wasn’t, though, not really. Maria could be passionate and angry, but vindictive she was not. Alex wished he contained even a fraction of her grace.

Michael shrugged and looked away. “We have an understanding,” was all he replied, clearly not planning to elaborate further.

Alex nodded. “Just don’t give her any grief, alright?”

”I might be a masochist, but I do value my life,” Michael replied. He licked his lips quickly. “You guys work it out?” he ventured, looking at Alex steadily.

“Yeah, we talked,” Alex answered. His first instinct was to lash out, make a snide comment, but he was too pressed thin to bother. He’d have to get used to talking to Michael about Maria and vice versa, he supposed. “I love her too much to ever stay mad at her, and it’s the same for her.”

“Good,” Michael sighed, shoulders loosening. “I was scared that I had fucked that up for you, if I’m being honest.”

Alex raised an eyebrow in challenge. It was a bit late for that. “You didn’t seem to care much about that before,” he observed.

Michael had the decency to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. I was only thinking about myself then, wasn’t I? I’m sorry, by the way.”

Alex shrugged it off, not wanting to get into it. As far as he was concerned, he was more than ready to forget about it and move on. “It’s in the past. All we can do is move forward, now.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “Exactly.” He paused and looked at Alex for a long moment. “Have you seen Rosa, yet?”

Blinking quickly, Alex shook his head, thrown by the question. He was terrified of her being different, of being the same, of all of it. He knew that Kyle was keeping her hidden at his place, that she asked about Alex often, and that he was a coward for keeping his distance. “Does Maria know?” Alex questioned.

Shaking his head, Michael said, “No. And she can’t ever know, because she can’t know about any of this. At least one of us deserves the chance to have a normal life.”

Alex nodded. He wanted to keep Maria safe and keeping her in the dark seemed like the best way to accomplish that. “You care about her,” Alex observed. A month ago, saying so would have made bile rise in Alex’s throat; now, it was a relief.

Michael nodded. “She’s a good person,” he replied, “but she’s not you.”

The admission grounded Alex to the spot, his heart thumping hard in his chest. “Guerin—”

Michael smiled, then, as his head tipped in the direction of the bar. “You used to love this song,” he said.

It took a moment for recognition to wash over Alex, but once it did, he felt overcome. The song drifting out of the bar was “First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes. “_Yours was the first face that I saw_,” Conor Oberst crooned, and Alex shut his eyes for a brief moment, letting the song transport him back to high school.

“You played this on the guitar for me,” Alex said, taken aback by the sudden rush of emotion. He remembered the day like it was yesterday: Alex had been having a shitty day because of his dad, and he hadn’t had to express it for Michael to know. He just drove them out to the desert, no questions asked. They had sat in the bed of Michael’s truck for hours, playing guitar together until the weight began to lift off of Alex’s shoulders, and he could smile again. When Michael had launched into the “First Day of My Life,” singing along so quietly that Alex could barely hear, that was the moment that Alex knew he had fallen hard, despite every nerve in his body screaming for him to do the opposite.

Michael nodded, looking almost as shy as that seventeen year old kid who’d played the song for Alex. “Dance with me?” he asked, holding a hand out at waist level.

Alex’s eyebrows pinched together. “Here?” he questioned, looking around but the parking lot was quiet, save the music spilling out of the bar.

Michael shrugged as he looked around as well. “Why not? Anyone who’s out here is too drunk to give a shit.” His words were harsh, but his tone remained soft and coaxing.

Alex stepped forward, taking Michael’s hand and setting it on his waist as he looped his arms loosely around Michael’s neck. “I hear you’re a horrible dancer,” he said, hoping Michael didn’t notice how difficult it was becoming for him to breathe.

Stepping into Alex’s space and settling his other hand fully on Alex’s waist, Michael objected in a low voice, “I can sway just fine, darlin’; don’t you worry about that.”

Alex’s heart leapt into his throat at the pet name; he forced himself to swallow it back down. He studied the sweep of Michael’s eyelashes, watching as they fluttered briefly against his cheeks, his eyes wide and pupils huge in the dark. It had been a long time since they had been this close. Not since Caulfield. Alex swayed in time with Michael, not moving away as Michael moved close enough to press their chests together. 

Instead of pressing their foreheads together like Alex wanted to, he settled for pressing his cheek against Michael’s, closing his eyes when he felt the hot, slightly scratchy skin against his own. Every point at which their skin connected felt as if it was on fire. Alex recalled how, at their prom, he kept sneaking looks at Michael, wishing he had enough courage to ask the boy to dance. But Alex had let his insecurity get in the way, and Kyle being a dick ended up ruining the whole entire night.

As Michael breathed softly in his ear and held him close, Alex supposed that eleven years was better late than never.

Alex found it difficult to let go of Michael as the song ended, but he stepped away and said, “Not bad, Guerin.” _She’s not you_ echoed in his mind, but he pushed it away. He didn’t dare allow himself to hope.

After giving Alex a sideways smile, Michael replied, “Not half bad yourself, private. Maybe next time, I’ll get a PG-13 dance out of you.”

Alex chuckled. “Not brave enough for an R rating?” he pressed.

Michael shrugged. “I’m working up to it,” he answered. “Goodnight, Alex.”

Alex had to fight against the urge to follow him. “Goodnight, Guerin,” he returned, not even pretending not to watch Michael swagger his way back towards the Wild Pony in his ridiculous cowboy boots.

Maybe it was a bit of divine providence that Alex’s car started acting up just days after he danced with Michael in the dark parking lot of the Wild Pony. There were no shortage of mechanics in Roswell, but Michael was by far the best and the fastest, and Alex would be stupid not to go to him. Really.

When Alex pulled up in the junkyard, Michael was shirtless and leaning over the engine of a sedan that had clearly seen better days. He had his hat on, though, to shade his face and shoulders from the sun as he worked, and Alex found himself swallowing hard.

A smirk tugged at Michael’s lips as he watched Alex approach. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” Michael called. “You’re gonna give a guy the wrong idea.” As Alex got closer, the smirk grew, bringing with it a cockiness that couldn’t help but draw Alex in.

“As if you’re not the one with a newfound passion for stalking me,” Alex returned.

Michael licked his lips, but didn’t bother denying it. “Tell me to fuck off, Manes, and I’m gone,” he said, keeping his chin high. 

“When I get sick of you,” Alex promised, “you will be the first to know.”

“Fair enough,” Michael replied, amusement creeping back into his tone as he leaned back against the car he was working on. “So, what can I do you for?”

Alex reminded himself that he was not here to study the way Michael’s torso glistened in the sun, nor take notes on the way he gripped and tossed a wrench in the air, an action that drew attention to his glistening torso and biceps. No, he was here about his piece of shit truck and nothing more. Shifting, Alex said, “My truck is making a noise.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Uh, care to be more specific? Is it a rattle, a sputter? A bang?”

“It’s like a… violent rattle?” Alex guessed.

Michael scoffed and waved his fingers, calling Alex’s keys into his hand with the barest amount of effort. “Have a seat, and I’ll take a look,” he said, abandoning the car he was working on and strutting over to Alex’s truck.

Alex sighed to himself, unable to stop himself from taking in the way Michael’s jeans hugged his ass or how broad his shoulders looked as he lifted the hood of Alex’s truck. Alex had the urge to sink his fingers into both; instead, he flopped into one of the flimsy chairs Michael kept close to the trailer. The moment Alex sat, a beer floated into his vision, coming to rest by Alex’s hand.

“Take the damn beer, Manes! I can’t hold that shit forever!” Michael called from inside Alex’s car, where he was revving the engine.

Alex took the beer and took a long swig. God help him.

Michael worked on the vehicle for a long time, before eventually walking back towards Alex, holding his hat in his hand and sweating more than he had been when Alex had driven up. The sun was high in the sky, now, just after noon. “I’m not trying to be funny, but, you know you need to put oil in your car, right?” Michael questioned.

Alex blinked his eyes against the sun and scoffed, “Yeah, I know the car needs oil, asshole. Just haven’t put in any lately.”

Michael seemed unimpressed, raising his eyebrows judgmentally. “How many miles do you put on it a week?” he asked.

“Uh… a lot?” Alex wagered. He had been driving from the cabin into Roswell almost every day, which was almost an hour both ways. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “You need to take care of her, Alex, and she’ll take care of you. Anyways, I got it all fixed up. Just check the oil more often, okay?”

Alex nodded. “Thank you,” he breathed, thankful to have it over with. “How much do I owe you?”

Michael waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied.

“Bullshit,” Alex stated. “You wasted a good hour fucking with that thing, so how much do I owe you?”

“And I believe I just told you not to worry about it,” Michael returned, refusing to back down. “Seriously, it’s the least I could do.”

“Michael,” Alex said sternly.

A pleased look flashed across Michael’s face as a smile played at his lips. “Just buy me a drink next time you see me around, then we’ll call it even,” he replied, setting his cowboy hat back on his head.

Alex looked at Michael for a long moment, before finally saying, “Fine. But I still owe you one.”

Michael shook his head. “Nah. Just promise you’re going to be safe, and I got you,” he continued, fixing Alex with a closed lip smile that Alex had to turn away from.

“I’ll do my best,” Alex replied, to which Michael answered with narrowed eyes but a nod of his head as if to say, _fine_.

When Alex drove away from Sanders’ Auto, he couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on the rear view mirror, taking in how Michael was watching him drive away with his hands on his hips. Alex didn’t look away until Michael’s figure was too small to see, fading away with the desert sun.

The following night, Alex was pressed up against a guy he’d met twenty minutes before, grinding slowly to the music that was playing. It wasn't his favorite kind of music by any means— this electro-pop shit irritated him most days— but it had a good beat and the alcohol had Alex itching to move. He was a good dancer and knew it from the way the guy’s breath hitched in time to the grind of his hips. Alex smirked, assured of himself. He didn’t dance like a guy with one left foot; that was for damned sure.

Alex held the stranger close by the hips, hands occasionally moving to stretch over the planes of his back. The guy was breathing hard, tugging Alex closer, and, when their half-hard dicks brushed together through their jeans, the other man moaned audibly. 

Being so eager out of the gate wasn’t Alex’s biggest turn on; he preferred a bit of a challenge, a chase. But Alex was so fucking horny and frustrated that it didn’t matter right now, and he hoped that this beautiful stranger had a bed that Alex could fuck him in all night. Alex ached to get lost for awhile, hoping to forget about the man who was currently plaguing his daydreams.

Alex had just lifted his head to suggest to the man that they get out of there when he was pinned to the spot by a familiar gaze. Michael was not ten feet away, dancing unabashedly with his back pressed against another man. Alex's eyes moved from Michael’s down to where his shirt was unbuttoned to expose a large portion of his chest, further to where that shirt was tucked into tight jeans and a huge belt buckle, lower still to follow the lines of his legs that were tucked neatly into cowboy boots. Michael looked every inch like a cowboy who’d ride you hard and leave you before the sun rose, and Alex had never wanted him more.

Alex licked his lips, causing Michael smirk openly. The guy Michael was with had one hand on his hips, the other moving up his chest to get a hand underneath his shirt and touch bare skin. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly lost in the other man’s touch, and moved to hook his hand behind the other man’s neck to guide him towards his own throat.

Jealousy hit Alex hard in the chest for a moment before he was met with Michael’s wide grin. Ah. Alex moved his hands from his own stranger’s hips slowly around and down to his ass, squeezing, the same thing he’d do if it was Michael in his arms. He then moved to lick the shell of the man’s ear, maintaining eye contact with Michael as he did so. If Michael wanted a show, it was a show he’d get.

Michael’s gaze was hot as he watched, grabbing the hand that was under his shirt and guiding it down to his crotch, squeezing himself with the stranger’s hand as the man continued to kiss and suck on Michael’s neck. The sight made Alex’s breath hitch and tug the man in front of him closer, desperate for some friction to take the edge off. 

Not since that night in the Airstream had Alex gotten his hands on Michael like that. It had been months of hovering around each other, running and chasing, and Alex was desperate to have Michael under his palms once more, to feel and kiss and taste him. Alex slowly began to walk the man he was dancing with backwards, inching closer into Michael’s space.

It didn’t take long for Michael to catch the hint and begin to move forward to meet Alex, dancing and pulling the man who was latched onto his back along for the ride. Before long, Michael was close enough to touch, if Alex just reached out. He waited, though, watched as Michael licked his pretty lips and looked at Alex hotly from under a stray curl that had fallen into his eyes. Alex continued to watch Michael for a long moment before he threaded his hand through the stranger’s hair so he could pull the man’s head back and sink teeth into his neck, eyes never leaving Michael’s.

In the next moment, Michael was pressing himself up against Alex’s dance partner from behind, reaching out to thread his fingers through Alex’s where they rested on the stranger’s hip.

The brief touch was all it took for Alex to break and reach out, moving his hands from the other man’s hair and hip to wrap his arms around Michael’s waist as well as he could with another body between them. Neither man they danced with seemed to mind, and all four of their bodies continued to move together in a hot, tangled, sweaty mess. It wasn’t long before Michael’s hands to drifted around to Alex’s ass, using his newfound leverage to squeeze in even closer. 

Michael still wasn’t nearly close enough for Alex’s liking, but Alex managed to get his hands up sides of Michael’s shirt, dragging his nails down the feverishly hot flesh beneath his hands. In retaliation, Michael licked his lips once more and squeezed Alex’s ass until Alex found he couldn’t take it anymore. He found himself darting forward to meet Michael over the stranger's shoulder, connecting their lips at last in a rush that left Alex dizzy. 

The kiss was sloppy, much more tongue than lips, but Alex still found himself groaning into Michael’s mouth, getting lost in the feeling of _finally, finally_. Everything else fell away until it was just the two of them on the dance floor, pouring every bit of tension that had been building between them into that kiss.

Alex was brought back to reality as movement between him and Michael separated their mouths. The guy who had been sandwiched between them had managed to extract himself, demanding, “What the fuck?” with an incredulous, bordering on disgusted expression.

Alex shrugged in response, which made Michael smirk widely. Alex’s dance partner disappeared, then, while Michael’s remained pressed against his back, clearly interested in the sudden change of events.

Alex spared a glance at the man who was wrapped around Michael— who was, to his credit, tall and broad and beautiful— before turning his attention to Michael. “Wanna go for a ride, cowboy?” he asked.

Michael smirk managed to grow larger. “Is my friend invited?” he questioned.

“Depends,” Alex began, moving his gaze back to the man who still hand his hands on Michael’s hips, “does your friend want to lose a hand?”

Michael’s dance partner got the hint and stepped away from Michael, mumbling, “Sorry,” as if he hadn’t been there first.

Michael laughed openly, looping his arms around Alex’s neck and pulling him in. He smelled like sweat and cheap whiskey, and Alex ached for him. “You had him trembling, Manes.”

And Alex was done with the flirtation, this dance they’d been engaged in for the last month. He wanted to consume Michael entirely, to have him alone and do everything he’d been fantasizing about in that time, but he also wanted to hold him close and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. Alex’s voice dropped low as he pulled Michael close and ordered, “Take me home, Guerin.”

The request made Michael’s breath hitch as he looked into Alex’s eyes to assure himself of Alex’s surety. “Sir, yes, sir,” Michael breathed after a brief moment, grabbing Alex’s hand to tug him out into the night.

By the time they made it to Michael’s Airstream, however, Alex was shaking as the confidence the alcohol had lent him began to fade. He was brought back to the last time he’d been here, the night he was prepared to lay himself bare for Michael, only for Michael to choose someone else. It felt like a sucker punch, and Alex had to pause and take a steadying breath.

“What is it?” Michael questioned, pulling away from where he had been kissing down Alex’s neck. He sounded as terrified as Alex felt.

Alex swayed in Michael’s arms. “Is this really what you want?”

Michael blinked quickly before breaking into an amused smile. “Are you joking?” he questioned.

“Fuck off,” Alex snapped, stepping backwards.

“Alex,” Michael said firmly, his voice going low and serious in a way it rarely did. He moved in to hold Alex’s face like it was something precious, so tenderly that Alex had to close his eyes. Kisses landed on Alex’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids before Michael pulled back a fraction and moved a hand to the back of Alex’s neck, guiding Alex to look at him. There was a tenderness in Michael’s gaze that still gave Alex the urge to run, but he kept himself planted firm. “There’s nothing in this universe that I want more,” Michael finished.

Alex’s hands shook as he reached out to place his hands on Michael’s neck and leaned forward to press their foreheads together. “Does this mean you’re done trying to leave the planet?” he asked.

The corner of Michael’s mouth curled up sweetly. “Not without you,” he promised.

Alex let himself be swept up, then, into another kiss that turned into another and another that had them falling into the tiny bed, pressing together so closely that it was difficult to breathe. Alex didn’t care. He surrendered himself into feeling Michael, kissing him, loving him until the sun began to peak over the horizon.

“Missed you,” Michael murmured after, as he tucked his face into Alex’s neck. “Can’t believe you finally gave me the time of day.”

Alex was groggy and exhausted, two seconds away from drifting to sleep in Michael’s arms, but Michael’s words made his eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Michael propped himself up to meet Alex’s eyes. “I’ve been courting you for like, months,” he said.

“Courting me,” Alex said carefully, the words lingering in his mouth.

“Yes,” Michael replied like he was trying to explain astrophysics to a toddler.

Alex looked up at the ceiling in wonder. The drinks, the milkshake, the leg, the dancing. The way Michael had made a point to show up, to demonstrate to Alex that he wasn’t going anywhere. It all suddenly made sense. “Huh.”

Michael’s eyebrows shot up. “You really didn’t know? I built you a _leg_, Alex.”

Alex laughed. “You did,” he said softly. He turned his face to take in Michael’s expression, so earnest like it was when they were young. Alex wondered if anyone else had ever seen him like this, without all of the pretense and hard edges that he kept up outside closed doors. It had been too long since Alex had seen this side of Michael, and he wasn’t planning on ever going without for so long again. “I’m done playing games, Michael,” Alex finally admitted, “And I’m done running from you. If you want this, I’m ready.”

Michael looked at Alex for a long moment, before leaning in to kiss him, lips working out all of Alex’s fears. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for ten years,” Michael replied once he pulled away, still close enough to say the words into Alex’s mouth. “I tried to move on, to tell myself it didn’t matter, but I lied. You’re under my skin, and I can’t get you out to save my life.”

Alex cupped Michael’s cheek. “Told you you were a miserable liar,” he said, heart heavy. 

Michael nodded and left a lingering kiss on Alex’s palm, an apology. “You know me, Alex. Always seen straight into me in a way no one else has,” Michael admitted, tugging Alex closer by the hips.

“And yet, you continue to confuse the fuck out of me,” Alex returned. “Don’t think we’re done discussing this whole ridiculous ‘courting’ business.”

Michael grinned. “Don’t go easy on me, sweetheart,” he said, pinning down Alex with his gaze. “It’s not in your character.”

Alex smiled widely and gave Michael a playful, biting kiss. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, wrapping himself around Michael, about to lean in again when a realization struck him. “Oh my god,” Alex said suddenly, “Kyle helped you, didn’t he?”

Michael laughed then, loud and delighted, and if Alex could’ve captured the sound so he could play it on loop forever, he would have. “You’re just realizing this _now?_ And here I thought you were a very serious code breaker, Captain.”

Smiling, Alex flicked Michael’s arm. “You two hate each other! How was I supposed to know that you would team up to worm your way back into my life?”

“Yeah, well,” Michael said, quieting, “I guess you could say we finally found some common ground.” He looked at Alex in that way that made Alex’s heart flip in his chest, and Alex could hardly stand it.

Alex said nothing, just leaned in and kissed the fond expression off of Michael’s face and hoped that Michael could feel everything that Alex wanted to say but just couldn’t, not yet. By the way Michael kissed back, Alex thought he did.

“So,” Michael said as he pulled away, smiling, “About that drink you still owe me.”

Alex knew in that moment that would give Michael whatever he wanted, as long as he kept smiling like that. “You pick the place,” Alex told him, laughing as Michael rolled on top of him to press tickling kisses into Alex’s throat. “Were those the magic words?”

“You know they were,” Michael said into Alex’s ear, and Alex closed his eyes and allowed the rest of the world to fall away until it was just him and Michael, making out like teenagers in the clear light of day.

Alex knew that his self-imposed solitude was effectively over, now, and couldn’t bring himself to care.


End file.
